“A Bentley was my dream car,” she announces, apparently throwing her vow to say nothing to the wind. “No,” she amends, gripping the rim at the top of the window. “Is my dream car. And Harvard’s my dream school. And you have them both and somehow I’m with you. I’m not sure if you’re a kiss good-bye to my dreams or a promise they aren’t over.”
“Don’t let the universe decide what it means. Don’t let it have that power. And don’t let what you want get away from you.” I step closer to her, my hand settling on the window next to hers but I do not touch her. “What I want is what I told you in the restaurant. To fuck you so right and well you never forget me.” Her lips part, her eyes widening in surprise, chest rising and falling. “Now. Your turn. Don’t censor your answer and don’t think about yesterday or tomorrow. Right here, right now. What do you want, Emily?”
“You know what I want.”
“Say it,” I command, pushing her limits, a precursor to the rest of the night intended as a test to find out if she can really handle where I plan to take her.
She knows it too. I see it in the lift of her chin, and the hint of rebellion in her eyes. “You. Nothing but you.”
And with that simple, perfect answer, she turns and slides into the Bentley. I immediately close the distance between us, kneeling beside her, and yanking the belt from the panel. She grabs my hand midway across her body.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking care of you.”
“I don’t need you to take care of me,” she says, and she isn’t talking about a seatbelt any more than I am, but for different reasons. I know what I see in her eyes because I’ve lived it. She’s alone, trying to convince herself that’s just fine by her.
Reaching over her, I connect the belt, my arm brushing her breast, her reaction a soft gasp that I feel in the tightening of my body. I inhale and settle back on my heels, my hand finding the bare expanse of her knee just beneath her skirt. “Tonight,” I say. “You’re mine and I take care of what’s mine.” I don’t give her a chance to object as I stand and shut the door.
Rounding the trunk of the Bentley, I stop dead in my tracks as my brother’s 911 pulls in and parks three spaces from my car. Without question, he is up to something, and I can’t help but think it has something to do with the woman who’s with my father. Damn glad Emily is in the car, and out of his line of sight, I step forward to greet my brother.
He exits the 911, his gaze landing hard on me, a smirk appearing on his chiseled features. “Ah, sweet brother,” he calls out, moving to the trunk of his car, his jacket now removed. “Working late I see.”
I take three steps, bringing us close enough to ensure Emily won’t overhear our conversation. “What are you doing here at this hour, Derek?”
“Rolling up my sleeves and getting the dirty work done, of course. A necessary evil considering I’m at war with my own brother, but at least I know who’s in my corner. I wonder if you do.”
It’s not a question and he doesn’t wait for an answer. He turns and walks toward the elevator, leaving me standing there, his words left behind as a taunt. His intent is to make me question myself and everyone around me. Of course, I know my father is ultimately on his side. Perhaps he even has more of the stockholders in his pocket than I suspect. Or not. In my experience, those who talk the loudest use language as a smokescreen. Why, if he had everything locked down, as he’d like me to believe, did he feel the need to plant a woman in our father’s life to spy on him? And I’d bet money that’s what’s happening. Whatever the case, all is fair in love and war, and I’m starting to believe all there is left for Derek is war. I inhale, feeling the darkening of my mood, like a monster taking over. I need an outlet and I need it now.
I start walking toward the Bentley, and I’m pretty damn sure the woman inside, and the pleasure I’m going to give her, are about the only honest things in my life right now.